mountain of terrors (5)
The bitter winds howled across the jagged cliffs as Dakota began his climb toward the mountain's peak. The world around him was a canvas of ice and blood, painted by the relentless battles he'd fought to reach this point. The snow was stained crimson in patches, the remnants of monstrous bodies scattered like discarded toys along his path.
Dakota moved with the grace of a phantom, his footsteps silent against the frost-covered rocks. His sword hung loosely at his side, dark with dried blood. He didn't bother to clean it anymore—there was no point.
The mountain was alive with threats.
As if summoned by his mere presence, shadows burst from the crevices in the ice—grotesque creatures with twisted forms, eyes glowing with malevolence. They were hybrids of beasts and demons, their bodies stitched together by dark magic, claws dripping with venom.
Dakota didn't hesitate.
With a flick of his wrist, his sword flashed.
The first creature lunged, its maw wide open to devour him whole.
SHING!
In an instant, its head was severed, rolling across the ice like a discarded stone.
The others charged, screeching with fury.
Dakota moved like a shadow, weaving between them with impossible speed. His blade danced—a blur of silver light against the dark backdrop of the frozen abyss.
Blood sprayed. Limbs flew.
One creature roared, swinging a massive claw toward his head. Dakota ducked, driving his sword upward through its chest, the tip bursting out from its spine. He ripped the blade free without missing a step, pivoting to slice through the neck of another beast mid-leap.
The ground trembled as a hulking brute, easily three times his size, crashed toward him with a boulder-sized fist.
Dakota didn't even flinch.
He caught the fist with one hand.
The brute's eyes widened in disbelief—just before Dakota crushed its bones with a casual squeeze.
CRACK!
With a bored expression, Dakota drove his sword through the creature's skull, letting its corpse collapse at his feet.
The other monsters hesitated. Fear crept into their primal instincts. They realized—they weren't hunting him.
They were being hunted.
Dakota: (coldly)
"Is that it?"
His voice was like ice—sharp, unfeeling.
The creatures roared, desperate to overwhelm him with numbers.
It didn't matter.
They were already dead.
The mountain grew steeper as Dakota ascended, but his pace never faltered. The bodies of monsters littered the path behind him, frozen mid-scream, torn apart by a force they couldn't comprehend.
A blizzard rolled in, thick snow blinding the landscape, but Dakota walked through it like a ghost. The cold didn't touch him. The wind didn't slow him.
More enemies appeared—winged Djinns with jagged teeth, serpentine beasts slithering through the ice, skeletal warriors wielding cursed blades.
Dakota met them all with the same expression: indifference.
He didn't need flashy techniques or grand displays of power.
Just a sword.
And absolute dominance.
A Djinn lunged from the sky, shrieking as it dove at him with talons like spears.
Dakota looked up, expression blank.
SLASH!
The demon split in half mid-air, its blood raining down like dark snowflakes.
Another monster—a towering ogre with glowing runes carved into its flesh—charged with a massive club.
Dakota didn't even unsheathe his sword.
He punched.
One strike.
The ogre's chest caved in, ribs shattering like glass. Its body flew backward, crashing through a line of smaller creatures before exploding against the cliffside.
Dakota exhaled softly, the faint mist of his breath the only sign of exertion.
Hours passed—or maybe minutes. Time lost meaning amidst the endless bloodshed.
Finally, Dakota reached the mountain's peak. The blizzard cleared, revealing a sky painted in hues of violet and crimson, like a dying flame.
And there it was.
The Devil of Envy's base.
But it wasn't like any structure he'd seen before.
It wasn't even visible to the naked eye.
To the average person, the peak would look like an empty expanse of snow and stone. But Dakota saw it—a colossal fortress woven from shadows and ancient magic, suspended in the air like a mirage. Its dark spires twisted toward the heavens, pulsing with malevolent energy.
It had a condition to be seen:
You had to possess power equivalent to a Devil.
Dakota smirked.
"So, this is it."
Just as he took a step forward—
The ground shook.
A deafening roar split the sky.
The mountain trembled beneath his feet.
Then—
BOOM!
A massive creature erupted from the fortress gates, shattering the illusion with its mere presence.
It was a Titan—a guardian forged from stone, metal, and dark magic. Its body was towering, easily the size of a skyscraper, muscles carved like armor, eyes glowing with molten gold. Chains hung from its limbs, dragging across the ground with a dreadful clatter.
Its roar echoed for miles, a sound that could shatter bones and rupture minds.
Dakota stared up at it, unfazed.
The Titan raised its massive fist, the sheer weight of it causing the air to ripple.
Then it brought it down—straight toward Dakota.
BOOM!
The mountain shook violently.
Dust and debris exploded into the sky.
Silence.
Then—
A gust of wind cleared the dust.
Dakota stood there. Unharmed.
His hand was raised, fingers pressed against the Titan's fist, stopping it effortlessly.
Dakota: (smirking slightly)
"You're in my way."
With a flick of his wrist—
The Titan's massive arm snapped backward, bones and metal shattering like fragile glass.
The beast roared in agony, stumbling back.
Dakota drew his sword slowly, the faint whisper of metal against metal the only sound amidst the Titan's cries.
The air grew heavier.
His aura flared—not wild and uncontrollable like the monsters he fought, but precise, sharp, lethal.
Dakota stepped forward, his eyes glowing faintly with power.
Dakota: (calmly)
"Let's finish this."
Dakota thinking: ok just one more obstacle before I face the devil of envy, I can't use too much magic or my mana will be low when I face the devil of envy. So I have to finish this fight quick. And when I finish this fight... I will finally kill the devil of envy.